Domison realized at that moment, that he could hear the beeping of the explosive charge through the continuous cacophony of guttural noise. His eyes flickered around the room, the brightness of the flashing LED and flickering fluorescent lights above seemed to be paralleling the crescendo that the guttural noise had reached. The lights felt as though they were drilling into his eyes. The room looked empty besides Sam and himself, but he knew deep in his soul something else was there. Then his eyes were drawn to the many containers of black liquid dotting the lower facility surrounding them; the black liquid started shimmering deep within the void of its suffocating depths. It wasn't a shimmer created by the harsh fluorescents beating into every inch of the almost cavernous facility. No, it was a deep bloody red light, that seemed to be the only color not absorbed into the black liquid.
The world seemed to stop at that moment. The slight shimmer became an unignorable beam of what could only be described as un-light. The odd bloody red un-light started to consume the blanket of light around the container that was beating down from the clicking fluorescents above. The red un-light was not overbearing, nor drowning out the brightness. It was as if the sinister incandescence coming from within the void of liquid was eating away at the harsh fluorescents' influence on the world.
The fluorescent bulbs above stopped their incessant clicking and buzzing in an instant. The breeze that escaped the ventilation system running along the ceiling seemed to hold its breath. The red bloody brilliance devoured any light filling Domison's vision. He tried to peer over at Sam again, but he was gone. All Domison could see was an ever-encroaching darkness. The sound of the beeping explosive charge could no longer penetrate. As the darkness became complete, even the guttural growling and whispers suddenly cut away. It was almost a feeling of complete sensory deprivation. The only thing he could see now was that crimson red un-light, the only thing he could hear was a suffocating silence.
No matter which way he turned his head the darkness stayed ever-present. Domison could only feel his heartbeat pounding away in his chest, harder this time. It was the only thing that seemed to permeate the near sensory deprivation. To his horror, he realized that the un-light shining from the depths of the liquid had begun to throb in time with the shuddering beats of his heart. It was when he started to feel a prickling sensation at the bottom of his consciousness that he ceased to feel even the thumping of his little blood engine that could.
It was like death was running its cold, dry fingers across his amygdala like something was trying to invade the privacy of his mind. No, not just his mind, something deeper. He tried with everything he could to resist it. Or at least... he thought he did? He couldn't move, couldn't see, he didn't even know if Sam was standing there next to him, experiencing any of this. Hell, he didn't even know if he was entirely sane at this moment. The whispering returned and it was as if a legion of creatures were standing around him and begging for his attention. The sound of thousands of individual beings pleading in an undertone was unbearable and his skin began to crawl.
This struggle seemed to never end and he couldn't tell how long had passed. It was all just darkness and the bloody red un-light, which now resolved into veins running through the endlessly deep dark surrounding him. It felt like his sanity was being eaten away. When he finally thought that his mind would crack, something changed. The whispers started to overlap almost perfectly, and Domison could make out horrible words. His mind felt as though it were stretching to a point with every syllable spoken and his sense of being felt like a pane of glass being bent to the point of shattering.
During the self-assessment of his own sanity, an ancient primordial voice began speaking. It reverberated with a bass that sent a tremble throughout his entire being, sounding from the recesses of Domison's mind.
You smell of death child'
As the eldritch voice resounded in Domison's skull, he felt as though he was in the container with the lump of decrepit flesh. Domison didn't understand how that was possible, there were 2 feet of glass obstructing him. As the voice echoed within him, it and the ever-darkening, pulsing veins threatened to break his mind. He had felt this kind of fraying at the edges of his mental sanctuary before. The abyss that a person would stare into after wading through death their entire lives. An abyss that would accept you lovingly, dragging you in and reaping the fields of your soul of anything you should cherish while sowing seeds of despair. Images of his childhood started flashing, unbidden, through his thoughts, as though being pulled out by sharp prongs.
At this familiar feeling, Domison was able to wrench his mind back from the edge. This mental anguish, a nostalgic feeling, allowed him to retain the grip on his sanity, but images of a dirty stage and a silhouetted, rowdy audience still filled his mind's eye. It was at this exact moment the voice sounded again, almost as though it was giving him time to acclimate.
'It follows you, doesn't it my son? The abyss calls to you, breeds within your soul.'
At these words Domison's blood ran cold, he could feel himself shivering. While his mind was no longer on the verge of collapse, the sense of familiarity that colored the being's voice in his inner sanctum cowed him. He could feel the impressions behind the ancient entity, being conveyed into his soul. A fondness, a familiarity, a deep need. A need that felt again like that cold, dry finger of death scraping up his spine.
'You have ever stared into the Abyss. Since your conception darkness has permeated the air around you, filling even your dreams. It has been a hard life my boy, no doubt. Yet you have carried on, steadfast, eyes never leaving the void.'
Domison shuddered again at the almost familial tone the entity conveyed. It almost felt like a grandfather sharing the harsh truths of the world with their kin. The man came to the realization then, that this being was who invoked the memories of his childhood. It had reviewed his life as though eyeing over a brochure but Domison instinctively knew that, no matter how little it may have known before, it now had a very intimate knowledge of him.
'As you have ever stared into the Abyss, in defiance of its depths, the Abyss is now staring unto you.'